


Special

by tessykins



Category: Heroes - Fandom
Genre: Bisexuality, Community: lgbtfest, Gen, LGBTQ Character
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-04-23
Updated: 2008-04-23
Packaged: 2017-10-19 13:24:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/201323
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tessykins/pseuds/tessykins
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Elle’s a special girl; there's many definitions of "special". After a childhood spent in a facility under Bob's thumb, cut off from the culture she was born into, Elle doesn't understand why her liking both men and women is such a bad thing to some people.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Special

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [**lgbtfest**](http://lgbtfest.livejournal.com).

Elle was six years old the first time she found out she was special. A little girl in a tantrum, crying and pounding her fists. A little girl full of rage that sparked through her brighter than electricity. She causes a blackout in six counties.

She remembers the fights that tore her parents apart _father’s angry voice, mother’s hair flashing golden_. She doesn’t remember much else about her mother, just the shouting and the tears.

For two years she lives with her grandmother. Until she couldn’t control it, couldn’t keep it in. Then there was bright dazzling of blue and heady power filling her veins. She doesn’t remember what happened to her grandmother.

She doesn’t remember anything for a year after that.

Then came the doctors, with solemn eyes and lying mouths. Elle hates them. They don’t know what it’s like; they’ve never felt the raw power she has. They don’t know the _rightness_ of her ability. It tingles under her skin, sparks in her blood. Nothing can compare to that. But they can’t understand it, and they’re afraid of her. They lock her up and throw away the key.

Elle is sixteen when she finds out she’s special for the second time.

It’s the first time she falls in love.

Sophie is the prettiest thing she’s ever seen. Caramel skin and dark eyes, short hair dyed in streaks of red _bright when everything has been grey, grey walls_. She’s tall and lean and so fast Elle’s powers barely touch her.

Elle doesn’t have friends in the facility _doesn’t have any friends_. Everyone’s afraid of making her daddy angry, afraid of her ability; they talk around her, not to her.

Sophie talks to her like she doesn’t matter. It’s new, different.

"You don’t like me," Elle pouts, sparks jumping on her fingertips.

Sophie glares at her. "No. You’re a spoiled brat."

Elle smiles, wide and pleased. "That’s okay. I like _you_."

She stretches up to kiss Sophie _tippy toes like in the movies_.

Nothing goes like she hopes.

Sophie’s lips are full and soft and everything she imagined. Elle sighs, content _for once_ and then Sophie smacks her, hard.

Sophie hits her again, soft lips drawn back in anger, and Elle reacts in the only way she knows how.

Sparks twine around her arms and shoot from her fingertips. Electricity explodes from her skin before she can even think. Someone’s screaming; it might even be her.

When the blinding light fades, Sophie’s sprawled on the ground, panting and twitching, and the walls are scorched black.

Mister Linderman takes Sophie away, and has a long, serious talk with Elle’s father.

After that, her daddy won’t speak to her, can’t even look her in the eye. The bottom drops out of Elle’s world. All she wants to do is make her daddy proud _the only thing she has_. She can’t understand why everyone’s so angry, why no one will talk to her.

Uncle Claude _not really her uncle but the only family she has_ finds her in the cell she had a child, the grey box she slept in till they thought she was safe enough to sleep alone.

He sits on the edge of the bed, not touching her _no touching, that’s the rule, the only rule_. "You want to talk about it, Elle-belle?"

"No," she draws her knees up to her chin, sulking and sullen.

"Mind if I talk?"

Elle shakes her head; she likes it when Claude talks _he talks to her like she’s real_.

"You know, when I was your age, I met this boy. And suddenly there was this whole new world. Except it was just like the old world, filled with darkness and stupid people and hate. More hate, even. Just ‘cause I was different."

"What happened to him?" Elle watches with wide eyes; surely a romantic farewell, a dark tragic past that made her uncle so cynical _just like in her movies and books_.

Claude laughs. "Dunno. I went off to school and that was the last I heard of him. No life-changing love story there, kid."

Elle huffs and tries to look like she wasn’t expecting anything different.

"Thing is, I figured out that as much as people would hate me for my ability, they already hate me more for who I love."

"I don’t get it. Why do they hate so much? "

"People hate, Elle. It’s just what they do." Claude loops an arm around her shoulder, tugs her closer. Elle sags against him _no one touches her_. "But it’s not wrong, you know. It’s never wrong to love someone."

"Then why is Daddy so mad at me?"

Claude stares at her for a long moment, then shakes his head angrily. "I’m going to _kill_ Bob. Didn’t your dad your talk to you about this? About sex?"

Elle glares, a look of disdain. "I know where babies come from, Claude."

"Not that. About sex outside of here," he waves his hands vaguely, indicating the facility that’s been her whole life. "About how they think about sex out there?"

"I don’t get what the problem is. She was pretty, I like her."

Claude sighs. "D’you like boys who are pretty, too, Elle?"

"Of course." Elle smiles, showing her teeth. "I like pretty things."

"You know what bisexual means?"

"Yeah," she replies, snide.

"But do you _really_ know what it means, what’s it’s like for people like us out there?" Claude’s eyes are urgent, voice strained.

"No," it’s quiet, wistful. She can count on both her hands _sparks fizzing on her fingernails_ the times she’s been outside.

"People out there, they’re hung up on sex. A lot of ‘em still think being gay is wrong."

"But why?"

"Mostly religion. Most gods seem to hate queers. They think it’s unnatural. But a lot of it’s growing up like that. Parents teach their kids to hate, and on and on. People never learn. They always hate what’s different."

"I don’t understand," Elle pouts, plaintive, confused.

Claude sighs tiredly, head falling back against the wall. "Neither do I, love. It’s just something we have to live with."

Elle frowns. "What if I don’t want to live with it? I don’t see why I should."

Claude just looks at her for a long moment, and for the first time he looks old and tired. "It’s more trouble than it’s worth, trust me. It’s okay to talk about it in here, with your family. But out there, you have to be careful."

"It’s not fair," Elle scowls. "I want to be who I am. I shouldn’t have to hide."

Claude laughs, harsh and loud. "You be whoever you want to, Elle. Just keep it a little quieter, yeah? It’s bad enough that we’re considered freaks anyway, there’s no need to be drawing any more hate our way."

Elle sighs, leaning against her uncle’s shoulder. "I just want to be somebody special if I ever go, you know, out there." _Out there: words wistful like reverence in her mouth_.

"You’re already special, Elle-belle. Just think of this as being…more special."  



End file.
